


And He Spirals Down Again

by orionlethargy



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Angst, Cutting, Depression, Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Poetic, Recovery, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 09:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14931431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionlethargy/pseuds/orionlethargy
Summary: Tom isnt okay and hasnt been for a really, really long time.





	And He Spirals Down Again

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhhh yeah this was a vent fic and me flexing my lil hands at repetition and shit  
> i was kinda inspired by the style of writing in speak and wintergirls so like  
> ya?

depression | dəˈpreSH(ə)n |  
noun  
1 feelings of severe despondency and dejection: self-doubt creeps in and that swiftly turns to depression.

Tom hissed. 

His lip pulled between his teeth. His chest slowly heaving up and down. His whole body drawn tight as a drawstring as his hands shook. 

He stared rigidly down his forearm, which was exposed and resting on his leg. Blood slowly seeped out from where he had just drawn a quick mark with a boxcutter. A lot of it, too.

He had cut deeper than anticipated. The warm blood quickly cooled on his skin as it ran down his arm and stained his goosebumps red.

“Shit.”

He took a few steadying breaths. 

He..

Hadn’t expected it to bleed so much. But it probably wasn’t deep enough to hit an artery. Probably.

He tried block that thought out of his clouded mind and steeled his resolve again. 

Ready. Aim. Fire. 

Again and again and again and again and again and again and a

He dropped his weapon of choice as his determination broke and bile rose in his throat. He gripped his mangled arm and pulled it close to him.

Why did he keep doing this. Why did he keep ruining his life. Why why whywhywhy why couldnt he STOP just fucking STOP please stop it hurts so badly please

He curled up on himself as his face scrunched up and his mouth filled with cotton. His vision blurred and he felt warm tears drip from his empty sockets. His arm burned and he couldnt stop shaking and he knew the blood was staining his bedsheets but he couldnt will himself to move. He just couldnt. 

Tom knew it would always end like this but he still did it anyway. He sobbed into his own chest, sobbed because he was a child and a failure and a mistake and worthless and disgusting and fat and mean and bitter and ruined, ruined, ruined. 

Everything was ruined and it would always be ruined and nothing could change that anymore. No sunny days or amusement parks or movie nights or bar fights or anything in the world could fix him for long. He’d always do this again. It wouldn’t stop and he’d be like this forever.

Nobody could save him anymore.

————

“Tomorrow’s another day” -The people who don’t wonder what the world would be like without them.

Tom had passed out covered in his own blood and woke up covered in his own blood. Per usual. It was crusty and uncomfortable and smelled like pennies and vodka. He forced himself up, into his bathroom, and to the medkit. 

Wash Sanitize Stitch Bandage Repeat as necessary however many times a day it takes to feel like a human being.

He found himself in the kitchen and sat down at the table, taking the day’s newspaper from Edd’s spot. It was 1 or 2 pm, he didn’t know but everyone else had obviously eaten a long time ago. 

He busied himself to make the noises in his head a little quieter. Reading helped but drinking was faster. His eyes scanned around the messy table from the top of the paper. Tord had left the remains of his breakfast on the table again. He was the reason behind their newfound ant problem.

Tom wasn’t going to eat. He didn’t deserve to. 

He listened to the noises of his housemates idling upstairs. Edd was probably animating in his room. Matt said he was going to be out today, so that cut out a bit of the noise pollution. Tord’s TV was playing quietly from his room. 

Nobody was checking on him, obviously. He was an adult and was expected to look after himself even though he would sleep til noon and wouldn’t eat until dinner and drank until he vomited stomach acid and he really really really wished someone would check on him and ask if he was ok.

But he still didn’t deserve it anyway so he didn’t think about it long. 

The sun from the window felt nice on his skin and he could see the dust the light illuminated. He felt calm. For once. He just appreciated how the newspaper was light in his hands and how nice the sun was and how quiet the house was. He was proud of himself for showering for the first time in days. He was proud of himself for doing his own laundry a week ago. The little things were special to him, even if nobody else saw them. Maybe he would be okay.

The he noticed the bloodstain on his hoodie sleeve was visible and everyone would see what a fucking train wreck he was.

Tom spiraled, spiraled, and crashed again. 

Again and again and again and a

————

Tord gnawed at the end of the cigar that was clenched between his teeth. He had been forced (asked nicely) by an exasperated (worried) Edd to ask Tom if he had eaten yet, because it was almost four and they needed a dinner plan because Tom was always weird about food. Tord didn’t want to go, really, but Edd was in the middle of a busy project and the two could use some forced interaction (bonding time.)

Tord didn’t know why Tom couldnt just fucking grow up. Everyone else here could take care of themselves. Everyone else could feed themselves and help pay bills and shower more than once a week. Tom was a pathetic human being and an absolute garbage person, in Tord’s opinion. Tom infuriated him with the sheer fact that he didn’t try at all. It was probably what made him hate Tom the most. 

What Tord hated more, though, was that Tom probably know he could be a lazy piece of shit and not get in trouble or kicked out because thats just how he was. Tom definitely knew he was playing Matt and Edd like a pair of cards and getting away with it. Some day Tom would have to grow up.

Tord opened Tom’s door without knocking (because he didn’t deserve it). The curtains were drawn and the lights were off but Tord could still see the outline of a person sitting on the bed. He flicked the lights on and took the cigar out of his mouth.

“Why are you sitting alone in the dark, you freak? Do you have nothing else better to do?” Tord snarked. He noted how Tom had his arms hunched up near his ears and he was sitting rigidly still. His breaths were coming short and fast. That was..interesting. 

“Oh no, did I catch you doing something embarrassing?” Tord teased. He walked towards Tom with a smirk quirked on his lips. He placed a hand on Tom’s bony shoulder and felt how Tom was shaking. 

“Tord-please-fuck just go away please.” Tom muttered quickly, holding his arm closer to himself. His sleeve was rolled up but the inside of his forearm was held close to himself. 

“Mm, why? Was I interrupting something important?” Tord leaned in even closer, peering over Tom’s shoulder and trying to spot something around him to tease him about.

No.  
No No Nonononnoonononononononononononononononnononono

Tom wanted help, he did, he swore he did but he didn’t want to be caught in the act of something. He hated this he hated how Tord was staring at him he didn’t want Tord to find out he didn’t want TORD of all people to know. Tord would hate him more and get him locked up in an institution and get rid of him forever to have Edd and Matt to himself and he doesn’t wanna go away he doesn’t he doesn’t he doesn’t he doesn’t he doesn’t.

“Tord, get out of my room.” Tom said. His voice was strangely dead. He was a man defeated who wanted his last shred of dignity left intact and Tord was slowly ripping at it. 

Tord realized he had misread the situation when he actually took a second to analyze the space around him. 

He finally how fucking sick Tom looked. 

His eyes were sunken and ringed with red and purple, his skin was pale and stretched too tight over his cheeks and collarbones to be healthy, his hoodie had faint brown stains all over it that pooled around his arms and the more he looked the more stains there were, on his pillowcases, his bedsheets, his floor, and the biggest stain on a boxcutter that Tom didnt have enough time to hide.

When Tord looked into Tom’s eyes and saw the horror reflected back the dam truly broke. Tom started wailing and crying and shaking and begging, begging Tord not to send him to an institution hell do anything hell give you his room his life his mouth his money just don’t tell Edd don’t tell Edd please please please oh god don’t tell him I don’t want him to know. 

Tord wrenched Tom’s arm away from his chest despite the screaming protest and Tom writhing around the bed, saw the deep wound still freely bleeding and felt his heart in his throat. He grabbed Tom and wrapped his arms around his back, forcing Tom into his chest. He could feel all of Tom’s ribs and his spine and shoulder blades and he felt nauseous. Tom kept sobbing and twitching for a few more seconds before slowly calming down and softly crying into Tord’s chest. Edd ran into the room only a few moments later and fired a thousand questions at Tord, asking why Tom was screaming, what happened, is that blood?

Tord stared straight ahead. He didn’t know what to think or say. He just kept his arms around the shaking Tom and wondered if he was the reason this happened.

————

It was a long, long night. 

Matt was called home quickly after Edd processed the situation. It took an hour to get Tom to come out from hiding in Tord’s chest and another hour for him to explain why this had happened, how long it was happening, what he used, ect. In that time Edd grabbed the medkit from Tom’s bathroom and patched up his arm. The deep, deep wounds made Matt sick and he had to leave until they were covered. 

The four talked all night long until they had nothing left to say and for then, they decided Tom couldnt be left alone. Tord, surprisingly, agreed to stay the night with him. He changed out the bloody sheets while Tom sat on the floor, head tucked into his knees as Matt and Edd rooted around the room and confiscated any sharp objects. When they said their nervous goodnights, making Tom promise he’d consider treatment in the morning, Tord coaxed Tom into bed and made sure he was comfortable.

“Tom. There’s something I need to ask you.”

“…”

“Was it my fault you did this to yourself?”

“Tom..?”

“Tom.”

“Please.”

“Please.”

“Please answer me.”

Repeat as necessary however many times it takes not to end up with the same weapon in your hand.


End file.
